


Face of the Future

by QueenieZo



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Hurt Wyatt Logan, Lots of lyatt, Sharing a Room, Time Travel, post s2e1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 11:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenieZo/pseuds/QueenieZo
Summary: How did Wyatt manage those six weeks Lucy was missing?





	Face of the Future

It had become a part of his daily mantra. Wake up. Find Lucy. Shower. Find Lucy. Eat a disappointing breakfast of stale corn flakes and weak coffee. Find Lucy. Running as a constant stream through his head. Wyatt couldn’t separate it from the white noise in his brain. It had weaseled its way in like an ear worm, and it simply refused to disappear. 

It played through his head now as he lay on his lumpy mattress, staring at the bunker ceiling. It had been almost four weeks since the explosion, since Lucy had gone home and hadn’t come back. They’d just been about to end this all, Rittenhouse members being arrested left and right, the Time Team, as Rufus had so affectionately nicknamed them, about to get Lucy’s sister back. About to leave that godforsaken machine once and for all. And then all that had changed in the space of a breath. He’d barely even had time to yell out a warning before everything was burning. 

As Wyatt looked back on it, they were lucky they’d made it out the way they had, the five of them alive and the Lifeboat mostly intact. That didn’t lessen the rage boiling in his stomach or the pain from the shrapnel in his back. 

Wyatt sat up slowly, groaning. He’d suffered worse but getting caught in an explosion was never fun. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, careful not to pull his healing wounds. Wyatt had gotten it the worst. Rufus, having been more inside the Lifeboat than Wyatt was when the bomb went off, received only scrapes and bruises. Connor had been in his office, so he was somewhat shielded. Jiya had still been in the hospital from her fainting episode, and Agent Christopher had likewise been out of the building. Despite the fact that she was missing, Wyatt was glad that Lucy wasn’t there when it exploded. 

Wyatt grabbed a shirt from the pile on his bed and pulled it over his head. He really should clean up. His commanding officer would be horrified. But he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. Especially when the other side of the room was pristine. Lucy’s side. 

When they’d first come to the hellhole that was the bunker, Rufus and Wyatt had shared a room. But after the fifth time Rufus had sneaked back in at an ungodly hour, disheveled, sweaty, and embarrassed, Wyatt told him to just switch rooms. He was happy for Rufus and Jiya; he really was. But he wasn’t getting enough sleep as it was already, and he didn’t need Rufus’s sexploits disrupting the precious shut-eye he did manage. And it really wasn’t a big deal. He had the room all to himself now. So what if it meant that when Lucy came back they’d be roommates? They were all adults here. He’d fought in a war, for God’s sake. He’d been one of the first people to travel through time. He could handle bunking with Lucy. If she wanted to room with Jiya, he’d respect her decision. But he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one who had a problem with living in the same room as Lucy. 

He didn’t quite know when he’d started thinking of it as “Lucy’s bed,” but it was certainly no longer Rufus’s, and Wyatt couldn’t very well just call it “the other bed.” It was Lucy’s, plain and simple, and that certainty fueled him on days when Wyatt insisted Lucy was coming home, when Agent Christopher or Rufus or any of the others gazed at him with pity in their eyes. But as he sat staring at the opposite bed, meticulously made and entirely empty, Wyatt suddenly felt antsy, in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Four weeks and still no news. Back in Delta Force, before they’d go on missions, this was the same feeling. Full of restless energy, with nowhere to expend it. Forced to wait, forced to endure the inevitable foreboding that filled his bones. Wyatt’s foot tapped, a frenetic rhythm echoing on the concrete floor. He couldn’t even remake Lucy’s bed, as he had washed the sheets only yesterday. It was funny; as his own bed devolved into a mess of clothes and rumpled sheets, he kept Lucy’s bed that much neater. That military bed-making precision had to go somewhere, after all. 

Wyatt stood suddenly. The room was too small, too confined, and he was having trouble drawing a full breath. He threw some clothes on haphazardly, then grabbed his jacket and his gun automatically, a force of habit. He stalked down the hallway, past the other empty bedrooms. Many of them had water damage or mold, hence why, in an enormous bunker, five inhabitants were forced to share rooms. As he neared the makeshift lab, he could hear Rufus, Jiya, and Connor working tirelessly on the Lifeboat, discussing this time equation or that quantum derivative. It was all Greek to him, but they understood it and that was all that mattered. 

Wyatt peeked through the open door. Connor stood in front of the Lifeboat, contemplating his creation. Jiya typed at her computer, hair tied up in a messy bun. Rufus, decked out in his usual hoodie, stood behind her, watching the screen, every now and then sneaking worried glances at his girlfriend. Wyatt understood. The dark circles under Jiya’s eyes belied how tired she was, though she would sooner run herself into the ground before admitting she needed to rest. She was rather like Lucy in that respect. 

Rufus glanced up at the time machine. He locked eyes with Wyatt, who quickly ducked out of sight. They weren’t technically prisoners, but Wyatt still didn’t want to be caught. And since Agent Christopher was nowhere in sight, he needed to be extra careful. Wyatt stepped past the lab, keeping his eyes down. He walked purposefully towards the thick metal door at the end of the hallway, furtively glancing around for Agent Christopher. He reached the door and took a deep breath, reaching for the handle. 

“You’re going to get in trouble.”

Wyatt whirled to see Rufus standing down the hallway, shuffling from foot to foot. 

Wyatt took a breath and smiled. “Only if you tattle to mom.”

“I think mom has a way of finding out herself,” Rufus murmured. 

Wyatt’s grin faded, and he turned back to the door. “Well, she can ground me if she wants. I have to get out of here.”

Rufus took a few steps forward. “Wyatt, they’re still out there. You shouldn’t—“

“Trust me, if I get a shot at any Rittenhouse folks, I’m not the one you need to worry about.” 

Rufus rubbed his temples. “I know you’re worried about Lucy,” he said, “but this isn’t the way to help her.”

“Oh, that’s right, because you all think there isn’t a way to help her,” Wyatt fired back. 

“I miss her, too, but they found her house ransacked and blood—“

“She’s not dead.” Wyatt’s voice was deadly quiet. 

Rufus met Wyatt’s warning gaze straight on. Wyatt couldn’t help but remember that guy who’d almost thrown up on him when he’d had to sew up a bullet hole. He’d come so far. But right now Wyatt was in no mood to admire Rufus’s character growth. 

“I know you’re still upset about your wife, Wyatt, but—”

Wyatt shot forward and shoved Rufus against the wall. 

“Don’t you dare bring her up now. This is not the same thing.” 

They stared at each other. Despite the shock in Rufus’s eyes, there was no fear. Wyatt lowered his voice. 

“If you think for one second that I’m just going to let those bastards—“  
Wyatt’s tongue tripped him up. He swallowed. “Then you left your brain in 1954.” 

“What the hell is this?”

Both men turned to see Agent Christoper standing at the end of the hallway, hands on her hips. She may have been a small woman, but she radiated power, and Wyatt would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little afraid of her. Behind Agent Christopher, Jiya and Connor poked their heads out of the lab doorway. 

Wyatt released Rufus and stalked back to the door, throwing it open and slamming it behind him. 

—————————————————

Wyatt still couldn’t breathe. He half-ran to the front gate, pulling it open and stepping into the cold Wyoming sun. He tripped his way up the mountain pass, to the very top where the wind ripped through the bare pine trees which clung to the rocky soil. 

When he reached the top, he gulped in air like a drowning man, trying to slow his rapid heartbeat. Normally he could get his gear under control; it was a requirement of Delta Force to always be in command of your emotions. But Rufus had rattled him. This wasn’t anything like what happened with his wife. Lucy was not dead, and he knew it. It was not hope, or a misguided dream. Wyatt was a realistic guy. He didn’t believe in fate or meant-to-be (or at least, he hadn’t until very recently). He just knew it was simply fact, the same way that the sky was blue or water was wet. Lucy was alive. 

Wyatt gazed out at the valley. The red dirt was peppered with sage and scrub brush. Turkey vultures circled lazily high above. In the far distance, Wyatt could make out the sunlight sparking off the few buildings of Cheyenne. They really were in the middle of nowhere, and Lucy was out there somewhere, maybe trapped, maybe hurt, maybe lost. If she was able to get to them, she would. She wasn’t a damsel in distress. But she had no idea where they were in hiding, and Rittenhouse very well might have her under lock and key, or worse. Wyatt sank onto a large boulder, suddenly exhausted. It was too much. Why did Rufus have to mention Jessica? It wasn’t the same. Was it? 

Wyatt scrubbed at his eyes, emotion and the wind and the high altitude making them water. 

“Agent Christopher is going to kick your ass.” 

Wyatt turned to see Rufus picking his way through the rocky path. He slipped and stumbled, cursing. He looked so totally out of his element that Wyatt had to chuckle. 

“Probably not entirely undeserved,” Wyatt replied. 

Rufus sat next to Wyatt on the boulder. He looked out across the valley. “Seems so far away, huh?” Rufus pointed toward Cheyenne. Wyatt nodded. 

Rufus chuckled wryly. “We’ve been to 1754 and forty miles feels far away.” 

Wyatt smiled. “Maybe that’s why it feels so far.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the wind whistling around the mountain. 

“I’m sorry I brought up Jessica. I know that’s a sore subject still.” 

Wyatt shook his head. “I just can’t give up on Lucy. With Jessica, there was a week where... I didn’t want to believe it but I knew... But it’s different with Lucy. I know she’s alive.”

Rufus nodded. “I get it, dude. Besides, it’s Lucy.”

Wyatt blinked at Rufus. “What do you mean?”

Rufus raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you know. Jessica was your wife. This is Lucy. Sorta the same, you know?” 

Wyatt shook his head, nonplussed. He really had no idea what Rufus was trying to say. Rufus rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples. 

“Never mind.” 

He started laughing. Wyatt was beyond confused but the laughter was infectious and soon they were both howling, the sound echoing out over the valley. 

As they finally calmed down, Rufus rolled his shoulders. “That hurt, you know. Those walls are hard.”

Wyatt shrugged, helpless. “Sorry, man.” 

“I’ll be sending you my chiropractic bill.” 

Wyatt chuckled. Rufus’s smile faded, replaced with a serious look. He put a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. 

“We’ll find her.” 

Wyatt looked out across the valley. Somewhere, Lucy was out there. Wyatt stood. 

“You’re damn right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn’t love introspective Wyatt? 
> 
> Disclaimer: I’m very bad at titles. This title is taken from the song “Believer” by Imagine Dragons, which is played at the beginning of S2E1.


End file.
